


Sheep

by Spica Starr (TwistingShadows)



Category: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!
Genre: Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Multi, everything is written really generally but it's about my MC/OC, self-indulgent writing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-26
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-17 20:33:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29722839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TwistingShadows/pseuds/Spica%20Starr
Summary: There isn't much to it, just a collection of drabbles about my Obey Me MC's relationship with each of the brothers and how it developed over Season 1. These were written over the course of seven months, each one dropping at midnight on my Twitter the day that one of the brothers' songs dropped in my time zone. I decided to collect them here for anyone who wants to read or may have missed one. :)First up is Lucifer | Arcadia | August 25
Relationships: Asmodeus/Main Character (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Beelzebub/Main Character (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Belphegor/Main Character (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Leviathan/Main Character (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Lucifer/Main Character (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Mammon/Main Character (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Satan/Main Character (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)
Kudos: 37





	1. Growth

It didn't start out like this. Sure, you'd told him you would have preferred him over Mammon, but you didn't mean anything by it. Just that, given the choice, he seemed more reliable.

You always felt like you were walking on eggshells around him. So you tried to stay out of his way as much as possible. He was polite and you were as well. Two people circling each other, but never coming into contact. After all, he would constantly remind you that your only task was to survive the year--nothing more. You were simply strangers living in the same house. And you were content with that. 

The changes come slowly over time, like drops of water in a bucket. You feel him watching you as you interact with his brothers. Never really approaching, but watching--first out of the uncertainty he feels about your actions, then mild intrigue, then fascination at the impact you're having on everyone, himself included. Not that he ever comes out and says that much, he's too married to the image he must present at the flawless first-born and right-hand man to Lord Diavolo. He starts to wonder if maybe, just maybe, you're someone he can let inside his fractured heart. 

Your reservations about him change over time as well, slowly relaxing in his presence, not feeling as if you have to put on your own airs around him. You'd thought you were content with the dynamic you had, Head of the House and Exchange Student (although sometimes you felt Intruder was a better term), but then came the curiosity as you get to know his brothers better. As weeks turned to months, you learn so much about the others, but Lucifer remains an enigma. You find yourself starting to wonder about him--his likes, dislikes, his wants and needs--trying to seek out anything you can discover as subtly as you can. He's a puzzle you want to solve, to catch a glimpse of him behind the façade he so tightly wears. You become drawn to him, wanting to know him more deeply, more intimately, but you hesitate.

You continue to circle each other; always circling, never touching. Waiting for that catalyst to shift things just enough that there's no turning back. 

The catalyst comes one sleepless night, as they always do in this house. You know you're supposed to be asleep once curfew hits, but sleep simply continues to evade you. She's visiting your dreams again and you feel like you're suffocating. You don't need the reminders anymore, memories of a life not yours, the pleading to take on a duty spun by fate itself. You understand, you really do, but some nights you need her silence more than anything. Your escape calls.

And that's where he finds you, eyes closed and moving to a song only you can hear. Slow, quick, quick. Slow, quick, quick. You look so lonely without a partner. Does he dare cross the line? Stop circling and merge your paths? A nostalgic fluttering in his heart, remembering the dances he once shared with Lilith. Of course, he knows you're not her. Similar, yes, but also completely different. Still, that doesn't stop him from reaching out to take your hand, aching for something lost in the centuries past. 

Eyes fly open as he joins your waltz, steps sputtering to a halt as you trip over yourself in surprise. For a moment, you think he must be angry at you for once again not listening and moving about in the dead of night. But then you remember the gentleness with which he took your hand and you look at him in confusion. 

"I didn't know you could dance," he comments, amusement in his expression. 

You shrug in response. The dance you shared at the retreat didn't exactly show off your abilities, seeing as it was hard to focus on the steps when he was threatening you. You apologize, but you're not sure what for. 

Extending a hand, he asks you to dance. You wonder why he's doing this when there's no one to perform for, no obligation or reason to ask you for a dance. The answer comes to you a moment later. Because he WANTS to. It's a surprising conclusion, but not unwelcome. 

You take his hand, and the invisible glass between you shatters. 

"Thank you," he says.

He says those words many times after that. It's never "I love you", even after the two of you find your lives completely entwined with each other, but you don't fault him for that. You CAN'T fault him. He's a man of actions, not of words, after all. You know that, no matter how much he wants to dislodge them, the words remain caught in his throat, months and years of emotions that go unspoken towards his loved ones--yourself now included. But those words of appreciation are full of love, his actions supporting the words he can't say yet. Maybe someday he will, but you're patient, willing to wait and stay by his side, chipping away at his mask until there's nothing left to hide. Until he can say those words, you'll say them for him as often as they're needed and filled to the brim with PRIDE.


	2. First

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mammon | Are You Ready? | September 25

Your relationship with him happened suddenly, but it also didn't. It was simply made up of moments that piled up one by one until he accidentally declared himself your boyfriend in a fit of impulsive possessiveness.  
  
"They're mine, ya hear? I'm their boyfriend so you can't have 'em!"  
  
Your laughter only grew louder at his flustered expression when he realized what he just said. But you still backed him up as you always did, entwining your fingers with his with a proud "Exactly!"  
  
He's by no means the smartest man you've ever met, constantly either running his mouth or shoving his foot in it, but it quickly became clear to you just why Lucifer chose him of all demons to take care of you upon your arrival. After all, despite being the second most powerful demon lord, he was the only one who never turned his ire or raised a clawed finger against you. Sure, he made a lot of threats at the beginning, but those fell away pretty quickly after a few weeks by your side. He was a demon whose life was ruled by his heart and desire to protect. And, once you got over your fear of him (you were whisked away to a world where everything could kill you, fear was a natural response), you began to find him charming and adorable, even more so when his loyalty to his brothers finally extended to you as well, sticking to you like your own personal guard dog.   
  
  
Today was more or less like any other day when you were left unsupervised together, him unintentionally (or perhaps intentionally) causing chaos and you getting roped into it and arguably making things worse. The two of you running to his room to escape Lucifer’s inevitable punishment and practically slamming the door shut, laughing and out of breath as you collapse on his bed.   
  
The laughter fades after a minute or two, his expression with a seriousness rarely seen on the loveable idiot. The private side of him he rarely lets the others in on, all too contented to play the part of the fool if it means keeping his family happy. A part you know he plays all too well. Sometimes you wish he didn't have to.  
  
"I still don't understand what ya see in me," he confesses as he gathers you up in his arms, voice a near mumble, listing off his brother's qualities. "I mean, Lucifer has his confidence. Levi's considerate, Satan's intelligent, an' Asmo's looks alone have people fawnin' all over him. Beel has his kindness and Belphie his honesty. An' yanno how they all see me. I'm just a scumbag in their eyes, so what sorts of merits do I even have?"  
  
You sigh, shaking your head at him out of love. "You're an idiot," you say, although your tone is warm and loving. "You really don't get it, do you, spouting off the good qualities your brothers have. But, in my eyes, those are YOUR qualities too.   
  
I love the way you're confident in what you want, and you're not afraid to be yourself. You're considerate and kind--you wouldn't have continued to put up with me for so long if you weren't, and I can tell how much you truly care about your brothers. And there are so many other forms of intelligence than just book smarts, ones that I've only seen in you." A pointed look as you pull away to meet his eyes. "I've seen what you do for your brothers, so don't bother trying to deny it. Plus, I know you have book smarts, especially with mathematics, you just need the right motivation to focus. Same with your honesty. You may not always say what you feel out loud, but you're definitely honest in your own way. And of course you're attractive, you're a model for crying out loud! Besides, I wouldn't just fall for just any demon out there, you know. I'd like to think I have very high standards."  
  
Silence stretches between the two of you, Mammon processing your words. For the boisterous demon to be quiet like this was rare. The last time he was this quiet was when you'd returned after hurting him and the others when you left with the twins. Of course, this is a vastly different circumstance, so you didn't mind his lack of words in the moment (although you'd much rather hear his voice).   
  
The whole time, he just stares at you, before suddenly turning his head away as if that will keep you from seeing the maddening blush on his face. It doesn’t, considering the blush reaches his ears, tinting them red. He peeks over at you, still waiting, his mouth opening to give a tsundere quip, but it quickly shuts and he looks away again. He tells you later that it didn’t feel right to him to respond with a denial or egotistical remark after you so earnestly shared your heart with him.  
  
“Really?”  
  
You nod. “Have I ever lied to you?” You know he knows you haven’t. Not about anything important like this, anyway. Teased mercilessly at times, but never lied.  
  
He turns back to look at you, a small smile softly forming on his lips. It’s so warm and inviting it could put the sun to shame. His eyes are lidded pools of blue, deeper and clearer than the ocean and shining with so much love as they meet yours. Your cheeks dust pink, matching his own blush.   
  
“You’re the first one who’s ever said that to me. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear you were an’ angel in disguise or somethin’.” He pulls you close again, burying his face in your hair. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to your kindness.”  
  
You wrap your arms around him. “That’s okay. I’ll keep saying it until you do. I love you, Mammon. Whether you believe it or not, you’re perfect just the way you are.”  
  
If only moments like these could last forever.


	3. Suki

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Translator's Note Meme: Suki means "to like"
> 
> Leviathan | My Chance | October 25

You really didn't like the idea of the exchange program at first. You weren't as vocal about it as Belphegor, but there was no way this was going to actually work like Diavolo wanted it to. Humans and demons would never be able to get along. And this human that was chosen looked like a stupid, idiotic NORMIE. There was no point trying to get all buddy-buddy with them (not that you would in the first place) because they wouldn't even last a week here. You didn't trust them one bit.

Sure, you got a little happy when they mentioned having figurines of the main characters from Battle Princess Brigade, Girls Only, and Diamond Dust because that was so cool and you've always wondered what they looked like in person because there's no way any pictures could ever do them justice but that was only because it was your duty as an otaku to get excited about this sort of thing. It had nothing to do with the human at all. And, sure, you took them to your room and told them about The Tale of the Seven Lords but that had nothing to do with liking the human either. The world simply needed to know about the wonders that were TSL and you couldn't just let someone walk around completely ignorant of the series, normie or not.

You were lucky though, being a gloomy, shut-in otaku meant that your interactions with the exchange student could be kept to an absolute minimum. All you had to do was be yourself and they'd be kept at arm's length once you used them to get your money back from Mammon. It was a foolproof plan.

But then they started to try to get into TSL because you liked it. You heard them with Mammon in the hallway, you know they were just trying to get on your good side. It annoyed you at first, like, REALLY annoyed you. But you could at least admire their dedication.

Admittedly, it put them on your radar as well. You start watching them more, even after the whole fiasco with the TSL quiz. You watch them, and your heart starts to ache. You want this feeling to go away. 3D people will only betray you in the end. You don't need them; you have Ruri-chan and Henry 2.0.

But it hurts. Why does it hurt so much? They’re just an insignificant human. There’s no way you actually care about them, you’re not jealous at all.

But there’s a part of you that wants to be special to them.

You hate seeing them with Mammon, that scumbag and sorry excuse of a brother. You hate it because they look so happy with him. They always seem to be smiling and laughing with him. Even their exasperation has a fondness to it. Would they ever look at you that way?

(You hate seeing them with your other brothers as well, but Mammon's greed has him as the one who stays glued to your side.) 

You find your sin starting to take over, looking for excuses and opportunities to be near them as much as your awkward, socially anxious personality will allow. You stop trying to push them away when they continue to approach you under the assumption they won’t understand. They had, after all, looked offended when you didn't believe them when they said they were an otaku as well. They mentioned before that they wanted to get to know you better, how they admired your passion even if they weren’t quite on your level of nerdiness, but you’d brushed off their words as meaningless. Would things have been different if you’d taken them up on that offer? Would you still be having to work so hard to worm your way into their heart that holds all your other, much cooler brothers?

You find yourself asking them one day why they bother to keep trying with an awkward, gloomy, yucky otaku like you. Your brothers are so much better. Not that you don't treasure your growing friendship with them, but you still struggle to wrap your head around why they'd choose to spend time with you of all demons. After all, they're like the super unattainable UR+ card that you can only dream of having and you're just an N. Maybe even a duplicate card.

They surprise you, saying that it's because they care about you and think you're cute and want you to be happy. That they like being by your side, but they won't force you to accept them. They're fine with waiting. They love you, after all, and cherish the friendship the two of you have just as much as you do. But they'd love to be more than just friends if you'll let them.

You stare at them, believing their words for the first time, even if you can't understand why they're so kind to you, willing to risk everything to be with someone like you. If this was an anime, the two of you would be in front of a giant cherry tree with the wind softly making the petals dance around you. Or on the rooftop like in all the dating sims you've played. The confession scene.

It's odd, this feeling that's been slowly growing inside of you all this time. Terrifying, even, the mere thought of voicing your inner thoughts sending your social anxiety into overdrive. Still, as you look into their eyes filled with determination, you make a decision. You don't know where this decision will lead you, but if they're involved, you don't care anymore.


	4. Inferior

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Satan | Read My Heart | November 25

Another argument between Satan and Lucifer and you're stuck in the middle as usual, trying to get both sides to cut it out.

"You don't know what it's like!" He yells, and you take a step back at the outburst. "Always being forced to go along with what he says just because he's the oldest. To be constantly compared to him but know that you'll never escape his shadow."

He's seething now, you can practically see the rage rolling off of him. Of course, it's not like you can't understand the situation. You've heard the story of his birth, you've seen the parallels first hand. It's not as if they can be easily ignored, after all. The dignified way they carry themselves. Their habit of bringing their hand to their chest when feeling astonished or grateful. Their inability to wear their coats properly outside of their RAD uniforms. Even their reactions and expressions would mirror each other at times. Always keeping things to themselves, dealing with situations on their own thinking they can handle it, and doing what they want with no regard for anyone--completely unable to see how their actions are affecting those around them. It's like Levi said, they all raised Satan together, but Lucifer spent the most time influencing him.

But this doesn't give him the right to lash out at you without knowing your own situation.

In the room, your expression sobers then darkens almost uncharacteristically for your notably sunny demeanor.

"I do, actually." Your voice is deadly calm against his raging storm of frustration and six pairs of eyes look at you. A simmering anger, scarier than any demonic explosion of ire. "I had a brother, you know. A perfect brother who could do no wrong. An intelligent, charismatic leader who could turn the tides in any situation. And I was expected to compete with that. I still am." A tight smile. "Honestly, I'm expected to be even better than him. So please don't try to lecture me on 'not understanding' what it's like to be stuck in someone's shadow."

You walk out on the six of them. You're done and fed up with this after he tries to tell you how you're supposed to think and feel, his assumption that your life is perfect because of your smile. Besides, they're always chiding you for sticking your nose into 'family matters' and you're fine with obeying them for once and leaving it alone.

The subject doesn't come up again until you're sucked into Doji  ⭐ Maji ⭐ Memorium by Mammon's brilliant (read 'not-so-brilliant') idea to get Satan and Lucifer to make up. It's the last day in the game and you pull Satan aside to talk. You've been watching him and Lucifer for a while now, examining their relationship through the lens of an empathetic outsider--even more so after they've switched bodies. You don’t know what tomorrow will bring, so now's as good a time as any to tell him what's on your mind. 

The message is simple enough. You don't have to keep forcing yourself to pretend. The eldest demon brother has his reasons for doing what he does, but, at the end of the day, Lucifer is Lucifer and Satan is Satan. There really isn't a fair comparison between the two.

You don't expect him to take your words to heart--and he doesn't in that moment--but it feels good to get them off of your chest. And you leave it at that. You've said your piece and now the ball is in his court.

The fourth eldest demon brother. Born of Lucifer's wrath when he tore off his angelic wings. It infuriates him to no end, a perpetual ire towards his brother. His 'father'. His…whatever his relationship with Lucifer is. He's never bothered to truly define it beyond the fact that he hates what Lucifer has made him. "No matter who you are, no matter the circumstances of your birth, if you're smart enough, then people can't dismiss you." It's a truth he's held fast to all this time, his goal in life. After all, it's impossible to catch up to the ever-perfect, incomparable Lucifer. He's nothing but the man's shadow. The last of the brothers to be born into the world and the fourth most powerful. FOURTH. It's so…irritating, as if the world is saying he's not even good enough to be second in comparison to Lucifer's power, that he shouldn't even try to compare, he's THAT inferior to the man.

Your words stick with him, though, despite his attempts not to show it. He turns them over and over in his mind, at one point recalling your credibility to have the gall to say such a thing to him. It's almost refreshing, that frankness of yours. And he wonders, just how hard was it for you to come to terms with your own situation? He's seen you live so boldly, so unabashedly unafraid to be yourself despite any expectations that seem to be placed on you. Do you really think he could be like that too someday, to stop feeling he has to keep lying to himself and Lucifer? To stop feeling like he's obligated to continue the uphill battle to compete against the man who brought him into the world? He has to admit he's intrigued.

And slowly, bit by bit, day by day, he learns. With your support, he learns to be more honest with himself, to share his thoughts and feelings rather than keeping them hidden under his gentlemanly mask. He starts to rely on you more as well over time, knowing that, if no one else, you'll be there to patiently listen and help him deal with his issues, completely free of judgement. Sometimes it's as if you're the only one who understands him.

As a demon, he's lived a long time, many more lifetimes than you could even imagine, and yet it isn't until you come along that he starts to experience things he's never experienced before. He's known companionship, but never with compassion. Comprehension from others, but not with full acceptance. Philia, but never Eros. Days spent with you become a new adventure every time.

It's not easy, though. There are still many days where he still feels stuck in the looming, overbearing shadow of Lucifer himself. He half expects you to change your mind one day and choose Lucifer over him. But you don't. Maybe it's because of the bond the two of you have as the world's 'second choices', the pedestals of your older siblings too lofty to overcome. Maybe it's because there's something special about you, something about your innate nature that allows you to see past masks and facades and into the hearts and souls of others. Maybe he's overthinking it and it's because of the plain and simple fact that you chose him because you love him--him and no one else.

"Hey, what's wrong? You sort of spaced out there."

You blink, pulling yourself back into reality from where you'd been daydreaming again, as you've been known to do. "I'm sorry," you reply with a sheepish smile. "What were you saying again?"

He smiles in return, a genuine smile of happiness and not simply being cordial. He seems to be giving you more and more of those the more time you spend with him. It's only natural, of course. Once he's willing to let you into his heart, he discovers that you have a lot in common. "I was just saying that I found the book you were asking about. I'll lend it to you if you want to come by my room."

Your smile brightens immediately, and Satan's once-icy heart can't help but skip a beat at the pure warmth contained in that simple smile. "Ah, thank you so much! I'd love to take a look!"

It's funny. Amusing, even. For centuries all he could feel was rage. Rage towards Lucifer. Towards his situation. Towards his lack of identity and inferiority in comparison to his brothers. Constantly irritated by anything and everything (although he did his best not to let it show), always with an edge to him. And then you came along and another emotion slowly took root in him. A strange, warm sort of feeling he'd never experienced before as he slowly allowed you in to this painful existence of his. No matter how much he tried to push you away or how he lashed out at you, you never wavered, standing strong and resolute in your unending patience. This feeling of love, it was so hard to pinpoint and define--even the most intelligent of the realms would have trouble putting words to the feeling--yet he's confident that he's special to you in a way that none of the others are. As long as he has you, that's all he needs.

Hand in hand, fingers softly entwining, he leads you to his room, each step going further into the world you've shown him, the world dyed with your colors.


	5. Angel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Asmodeus | Pomade | December 25

Act 1  
  
Asmo cheerfully bursts into the human's room, brandishing a shopping bag. As he tells them, he saw the PERFECT outfit for them and he just HAD to get it as a gift. After all, he can't be associated with anyone whose fashion sense is anything less than spectacular (Satan being the exception; he's a lost cause at this point).  
  
"For me?" They grin, happy to see the demon. "Thank you, Asmo-chan! You're an angel!" It's an offhand compliment, one they don't think too much of as the words leave their lips.  
  
"Don't call me that." His expression falls almost immediately, a frown marring his gorgeous features.  
  
"Why not?" They look at him, puzzled at his reaction. According to Simeon, wasn't he someone who longed for his angelic past? Shouldn't being called an 'angel' make him happy, even as a pet name?  
  
"It's disgusting." {I'm disgusting. Hearing those words, it's just a reminder of how far I've fallen.}  
  
Of course, he can't just say that; he can't bring himself to do or say anything that would turn this human away from him. Instead, he just holds his arms over his chest, saying nothing more. His eyes are narrowed, lips drawn together in a tight line. He doesn't mean to glare, but it's almost automatic, a defense to keep the human from looking too deeply.  
  
"O-oh. Okay then." They falter for a moment, the word 'disgusting' seeming so out of character for the vain fifth-born at receiving a compliment.  
  
The mood is ruined now, so Asmo turns sharply on his heel to exit the room, an awkward apology and thanks ringing out from behind him as he crosses the threshold. He feels bad, but that past of his--of all his brothers, really--it's a touchy subject. One that feels almost like a weakness to him. He can't afford to show weakness, he's the charming, beautiful Asmodeus, Avatar of Lust and envy of all. Damned if he doesn't try to live up to that.  
  


Act 2  
  
Asmo ushers the human into his room. They wanted to see the doll he's fixed, and he's all to happy to show off his skills. Show them that he's more than just a pretty face.  
  
"This is amazing!" They comment, admiring his handiwork.  
  
"I know, right? Not only am I gorgeous, but I'm super talented as well!" He grins, bringing a hand up to his face in typical Asmo fashion at the praise.  
  
"Mm! You're an absolute angel for doing this for those kids. I'm sure they'll love it."

Asmo tries and fails to control his expression. How does someone like him even react to that? {An angel? Don't make me laugh. Something simple like this doesn't make me an angel. I'm a demon. A lustful, narcissistic, self-absorbed demon. That's all that anyone sees anyway.}  
  
"Of course they will!" He titters, choice made to continue on with how he's supposed to act. "I’m not an angel though. After all, it's a sin to not only be this gorgeous, but to also have a wonderful personality!"  
  
"I guess so," they laugh, appearing to go along with his vanity. "And it's those simple acts of kindness that make up that personality. They might go unnoticed sometimes, but it's always appreciated when you show how much you care in your own way."  
  
His grin wavers slightly at the implication of their words, and he assumes they're trying to reference his brothers. But knowing that the show must go on, the momentary discomfort is quickly brushed aside. "Right, exactly! You can't find a better person than me," he purrs, draping himself on the smaller human. "Now, while you're here, let me show you these new beauty products that I just bought!"  
  


Act 3  
  
Asmo comes running for his human, practically flying into their arms with tears in his eyes. He's just had yet another fallout with Mammon, the second-born's chronic foot-in-mouth helping no one. "It doesn’t matter!" Mammon had yelled after getting caught selling some of Asmo's custom, one-of-a-kind beauty products. "Stop making a big deal out of it! You look ugly either way!"  
  
"You think I'm beautiful, right?" Asmo's pleading with his human, desperate for reassurance. {Everyone does. They HAVE to. It's the only thing I still have going for me--even with my hideous demon form, people still flock to me for my looks.}  
  
Arms wrap around their demon, a loving kiss placed on his cheek. "Of course I do; I think you're positively heavenly to look at, but that's not really your merit."  
  
He stares at them, perplexed into speechlessness. His face falls a bit. If his merit wasn't his beauty, then what merit did they think he had? There wasn't anything more to him, everything else was just an act. After a moment, he smiles. “What is my merit then, hmm?”  
  
"Your self-restraint? At least when it comes to those you truly love? Like, I think we can both agree that you say a lot of flirty and suggestive stuff to me, but you've never actually acted on it or done anything that I didn't like. I really appreciate that. Even if it's because you like me enough that the idea of acting on your sin with me is abhorrent, I appreciate your ability to hold back. I'm sure it's hard sometimes."  
  
They pause. "And your generosity, I guess? You work so hard to give people what you think they want. All you ask for is a little bit of their time and attention. But I also know it's tiring, constantly performing for empty scraps and words of affection. There's something beautiful in that--the duality of the confidence you portray and the insecurity you hide behind it."  
  
Oh. So they knew. He tries to laugh it off anyway, acting like they hadn't just jumped up on the stage he's made for himself and brought the show to a screeching halt. "Ahahahaha! You're so cute! But you're thinking too much into this, dear."  
  
"Am I?" A small tilt of the head, challenging his act with their own innocence and belief in their words.  
  
He falters for a moment--this isn't the first time they've seen through his act--but he quickly smiles, practiced and easy. "Of course. Everyone loves me." {Everyone HAS to love me. Everyone has to lust for me, or I won't even be worthy of my own sin, let alone someone as beautiful and pure as you.}  
  
They smile in return--a kind, understanding smile that makes his heart ache, his determination to keep up his act waver with every passing moment. "Okay. Well, just know that you don't have to perform around me if you don't want to. You're worthy of me, my angel, my beautiful Jewel of the Heavens. And nothing is gonna change that. I'll still love you, even with flaws and insecurities."  
  
His heart skips a beat. An angel, huh? Well, maybe he can learn to get used to hearing that from them. Even if he knows who the real angel is between the two of them.


	6. Guardian

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beelzebub | Hungry Six-Pack | January 25

“Why would you go to those lengths?” His voice, laced with worry and concern, cuts through the fog as they blink back to consciousness. He can’t believe they did that, moving without a second thought to shield him and Luke from an infuriated Lucifer. “You’re not a demon or an angel, and you’re not even someone with powerful magic. You’re just a regular human. So why…why did you try to protect Luke and me?”

They simply shrug, smiling up at him with such tenderness. “I did it because it felt right. Maybe it’s hard to believe, but you’re all so important to me, and I REFUSE to lose another person I care about. As long as you guys were safe, that was good enough for me. My body just moved on its own.”

He’s the tallest, biggest of the demon brothers, and yet he looks so small sitting in front of them right now, his face downcast and searching for answers in theirs. They reach up and wrap their arms around him, attempting to provide the comfort and reassurance he needs at the moment.

Beel’s jaw tenses in an internal frustration. He’s the guardian, the protector of his family and yet, in that instant, this tiny human was able to do something even he couldn’t. A part of him admires their bravery. Another part of him is worried it’ll no doubt happen again. It’s that same part that stirs something in him, a desire to protect this fragile creature.

“As I watched you there sleeping, as I looked at your face, I couldn’t help wondering…If the situation had been reversed, would I have stepped in to defend you?”

“Of course,” they respond immediately, pulling away to look at the demon. “I have the utmost confidence that you’ll protect me.”

Time passes as it usually does after that. Growing closer with the brothers, getting caught up in their various…dilemmas (to put it as kindly as possible), slowly becoming part of their life and family. The dangers the human exchange student faced are never fully forgotten, but it’s easy for them to forgive and move on, their smile never seeming to waver in the slightest. A strength seven of the most powerful demons in the Devildom have to stop and appreciate.

Beel can’t help but struggle, however, feeling like he has to make it up to the human somehow—even more so after his beloved twin has been released from the attic and things have finally, FINALLY been patched up between all of them. He doubts they know just how much this means to him, to all of them, having their family back together again and healing after so many centuries.

And he tries. He tries so hard to do whatever he can to show his appreciation, to make it up to them for doing what he couldn’t. He’s supposed to be the guardian and the glue that holds their family together. That’s how it’s always been. But he didn’t even know what was happening until it was too late. He should have known. He should have known and protected everyone from the start. Even if he wasn’t a cherubim anymore, even if he didn’t have to guard Lucifer, he still had something he needed to protect. That role hadn’t changed, even after all this time.

“Isn’t it annoying?” Belphie asks as they take a bite of the sweets Beel has brought them for the third time this week. “Having him hovering over you like this?”

“Hmm? Not really.”

“I mean, I’m known as his twin for a reason. I can pretty much tell what’s going through his head at any time. And, even if I didn’t, it’s pretty obvious, considering how he stops by your room to check on you every single night as if that’ll somehow make it up to you.”

“I’m fine with it,” they say. “I think it’s sweet how much he cares.”

Belphie just sighs and shakes his head at that, muttering something about how they’re so weird.

It’s in the middle of the second month of awkwardly trying to pay them back that he finally gets his chance. The human is on dinner duty tonight and can’t decide what to make. Therefore, the best option is clearly to just go to the store and buy a bunch of various ingredients and decide later. (Plus, this way no one would have to go shopping for a few days.) He offers to tag along and carry the bags for them, wanting to be useful to them in any way he can. Every little deed matters to him, another tic mark against his overwhelming guilt.

They’re grateful, of course. No one knows how to choose the best ingredients better than the Avatar of Gluttony himself. Still, going food shopping with the man also means that one would no doubt leave with at least twice as much food as originally intended—which is why they don’t complain when he offers to pay, choosing instead to wait outside.

He’s only a little ways away, so maybe that’s why they don’t think twice about stepping out into a world full of demons who didn’t look kindly on such a tasty snack walking around like they belong here. They don’t even realize the danger until a fist smashes against the wall they’re leaning on for support, absently scrolling their DDD.

“Your owners aren’t here today?” The demon asks with a sneer, leaning in close enough that they can smell his rancid breath.

“He’s inside,” they reply simply, trying to push the demon off with whatever strength they can muster. That is, of course, until the demon runs his tongue over their neck, as if tasting them. They freeze in disgust and fear, unable to move.

“Of course he is,” the demon laughs mockingly, licking them again.

And then they blink and he’s gone, forcefully being held down by the demon lords’ strongest.

“Don’t touch them,” Beel growls, already in full demon form, waves of power rolling off of him as he glares at the blatant display of insolence.

“Yes, sir! Sorry, sir! It won’t happen again,” the demon squeaks, squirming under Beel’s strong grip. After a few minutes of deliberation, he lets him go. Lucifer had always told him that his job as a guardian was to protect, not attack. There was no need for unnecessary bloodshed.

“Thank you,” his human says with a grateful smile, walking up to him once they’ve recovered.

“Of course. You’re important to me,” he says, returning the smile and the words they said to him once upon a time.

Their grin widens as they reach up to poke his cheek. “See? I told you, I have the utmost confidence that you’ll protect me when I need it.”

Mammon, of course, is screeching and huffing when the two of them return, babbling about how HE was the one who was supposed to be protecting them, how he was their ‘first’ and everything. They just laugh at that in response, taking their guardian’s hand in their own as the two of them head to the kitchen. Dinner has to be made and they’re thinking burgers tonight.


	7. Guilt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Belphegor | Dreamscape | February 25

“Don’t you care?” He asks, peeking up from where his head is nestled in his arms as he watches them from over the couch’s armrest.

They just shrug, taking a sip of their tea, the pact mark on their throat moving as they swallow. It's another lazy day at the House of Lamentation, the two youngest members relaxing in rare quiet company with each other as his older brothers are elsewhere.

Belphegor yawns before speaking again, the silence of the house making him sleepy. “It doesn’t bother you? Not even a little?”

“Not really. Should it?” It's a genuine question, frowning at their now-empty tea mug and setting it aside.

His drowsiness clears significantly at their words. (Not completely, of course, he IS the Avatar of Sloth, after all.) He can feel the anger and frustration rising at how accepting they are of all of this. They don't see anything wrong with this at all. Doesn’t this stupid human ever stop taking things in stride? Don’t they ever get fed up with the House’s antics?

Perhaps he’s just getting angry on their behalf, expressing the emotions that they won’t. They SHOULD care, after all. His goddamn sigil is on their neck, in full view of anyone who looks at them. And he knows he didn’t choose that location—why in all three realms would he want his pact mark in the same place he choked them to death? Or maybe he did choose it, unconsciously, his mind stuck on what he’d done to them as the pact was made.

Maybe he’s just angry because it’s a constant reminder of his actions, permanent proof of what he’s done from which he can’t escape.

He doesn't regret it; he's a demon, after all. He's not sure he's capable of regretting it the way that a human probably should. But even he can't deny how his own laugh will ring in his ears sometimes, maniacal and unfazed as his brothers stare in horror at the limp body of the human exchange student in Mammon's arms. He can't deny the rush of twisted glee he felt at finally getting one step closer to his goal, fulfilling his threat of ruining the exchange program for Lucifer and Diavolo. Even Beel's hurt expression didn't deter the adrenaline coursing through his veins at the moment.

And then suddenly they were in front of him, as if he'd never murdered them, desperately trying to expose the skeletons in the closet. For his sake. For all of their sakes. To this day, he still doesn't know if it was bravery or stupidity that led to that confrontation, the final piece they needed to start healing.

It wasn’t all that bad, he supposes. What he hates is how quick they were able to utter words of forgiveness. How agreeable they were when it came to him and his brothers—and he has his suspicions they were always like that, from even before the two of them met—always putting the seven of them far beyond their own needs. Hell, even in the months that followed they were practically running themselves ragged trying to mediate and diffuse the awkward air between him and his brothers. They were so nice that it was almost unnerving at times, so selfless it was irritating.

Maybe this was why he stuck around, trying to figure out what it was that made them act this way. They were so weird, so warm-hearted to the point it got under his skin sometimes. They kept him on his toes with their kindness—he hated it, knew he didn’t deserve it, but he couldn’t stay away from how unpredictable it was. He never felt like he knew what they were thinking and he loved the challenge. He didn’t know how to feel about them or how to act around them when faced with someone so kind and loving and he was quite honestly addicted to that. He’d always thought his brothers were masochists for bowing to this human, but maybe he was too in a way.

Frowning again at the mark on his human’s neck, he recalls how his brothers kept pestering him to apologize to the exchange student. An apology wasn’t expected for Lucifer or any of the others, they knew that wasn’t something he did. But they wanted him to at least try for this human who had made a place for themselves and wormed their way into the family. He refused. Words meant little to him; it was actions that actually meant something in his world. Besides, how do you apologize to someone for attempting to kill them not once, but twice? Someone who, for all they could tell, didn’t even seem to care that it happened?

The answer came to him much more easily than he thought, the gift he finally decided on for their welcoming party.

“You’re giving me your freedom?” Sky blue eyes widening in surprise, not expecting this in the slightest. “But you just got it back…”

A sigh, eyes closed and a shake of the head. “If you don’t want it, I’ll take the offer back.”

“No, I do! Sorry, it just caught me off-guard. I’d be honored to make a pact with you, Belphie. But only if you’re okay with this.”

They confess later that it was the best gift they’ve ever received, and it brought him great satisfaction knowing that his present, his atonement, meant more to them than any of his other brothers. He had wanted to show that he had come to care about them and all that they were, separate from their connection to Lilith. That he was trying; that he still battled with his feelings on humans, but he trusted them completely and he was trying. And this was the best way he could think of, to give up for them the one thing he’d so desperately wanted for months and finally achieved.

"Forgiving isn't forgetting."

He blinks, pulled back into reality from his thoughts. Oh. Right. The pact mark on their throat.

“I guess it doesn’t bother me because I’ve already forgiven you for what happened. I haven’t forgotten, because there’s no way in the Devildom I could forget something like that, but after a while the nightmares stopped and I moved on. My life’s too short to dwell on painful events.”

“You’re so weird,” he mutters, letting the drowsiness settle in again.

“No weirder than you, my little murder cow.” The couch shifts as an extra weight is added, the warmth of another body pressing up against him where he lays. “Now, scoot over so we can cuddle.”

Maybe it was his punishment to fall in love with the one creature he hated most in this existence, as hate and love are two sides of the same coin, but he can’t say he minds too much. After all, the hand they offered him that first day in the attic, it was so gentle and warm.


End file.
